


Keep the Faith

by cinnamon_roll123



Category: Batman (Movies - Nolan), Batman - All Media Types, Dark Knight (2008)
Genre: Bisexuality, Canon-Typical Violence, Decline in Sanity, Drinking, Dubious Consent, Dubious Morality, F/M, Home Invasion, I Don't Even Know, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Implied/Referenced Torture, Mental Instability, Post-The Dark Knight, Psychological Drama, Psychopathology & Sociopathy, Sexual Violence, Short
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-22
Updated: 2016-08-20
Packaged: 2018-06-10 02:24:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,022
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6934351
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cinnamon_roll123/pseuds/cinnamon_roll123
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Of all the apartments, in all the streets, in all of Gotham, he chose to hide out in hers. Set post TDK. </p><p>Not sure where I'm going with this but it will probably be pretty short.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The First Night

1.

It was a dark and stormy night. The rain was beating against the windows as Faith hurried into her apartment and shut the door behind her. She shook off her long coat and hung it up to dry. She was just about to settle herself and maybe order some food when her phone rang. 

She sighed and answered it.  
"Paul, hi," Faith said, trying to ignore the faint growls of hunger coming from her stomach. It had been a long time since lunch.   
"Tomorrow at 2?" She grabbed her planner from her bag, and flipped through it, "Yeah, that works... Alright, I'll see you then."

She had just put everything back in her bag when a voice coming from the other side of the room made her freeze.  
"Have you got a date?"  
She swallowed, squinting around in the dark room, "I don't know."  
"I think it sounds like Paul is pretty into you."   
"He has a girlfriend, though. I think," She said and began to feel slowly towards her bag for her phone.   
"Ah, ah, ahh!" The unmistakable sound of a gun being cocked stopped her, "Don't even think about calling anybody."  
"What do you want?" Faith asked, nausea washing over her. "I don't have any money."

"Now, I'm sure you have some judging by that lovely dress you've got on, but that's not what I'm here for, sweetheart." 

"Then, what are you here for?" She replied, thinking of all the self-defence moves she'd learnt at her class last year. She was attacked outside a club in Metropolis and the guy stole her wallet and her dignity, so since then she'd been toughening up. 

Footsteps walked towards the couch, "I need a place to crash."  
Relief ran through her from head to toe, "Sure. Do you mind if I put a light on?"  
"No problem at all. All the better to see your pretty little face."

She cringed as she walked to the switch and flicked two on, illuminating the adjoining kitchen and living room in a comfortable light. 

When she saw the man now laying on her couch, spinning a gun around one finger, her heart came into her mouth.   
"I know who you are," were the only words she could muster.  
"Congratulations," he smirked,"So does the rest of the city, and maybe even half the world!"  
"I knew Mike. Mike Engel."  
He looked confused.  
"He was the news reporter that you took on that bus and killed," Her voice shook with fury.  
"Oh yeaah. He was pretty annoying, though, right?"  
"He was my friend."  
His eyebrows raised suggestively, "Oh, yeah, like Paul is a friend?"  
"That's none of your business."  
"As long as I'm your guest," he looked up at her, his gun suddenly aimed right towards her chest, "I think it is."  
She froze again. 

"Sit."  
She did so rigidly on the armchair beside the couch.  
He sat up, with a grin, "Tell me about this Paul."

Faith answered stiffly as if she were on trial, "He works with me at the paper."  
"Which paper?"  
"Gotham Times."  
"Have you slept with him?"  
Her cheeks flushed slightly at the direct question, "No, not yet."  
"Do you want to?"  
She shifted uncomfortably in her seat, "He's alright."

"You mentioned he has a girlfriend?" He leaned up to stare at her, "but that doesn't really bother you, now does it?"  
She met his gaze at last, "Why do you care?"

He leant back on the couch again, "I just find it interesting. People think themselves so moral. Upright, law abiding citizens, but you're all just animals with your deadly sins."   
"What about you?" She blurted out.

"My sins? They're too many to count, sugar, but at least I don't pretend to be a saint," A smirk came across his face again, "But you know all about that, don't you? You've probably reported half of it."  
"Some stories, yes."  
"What sort of stories do you write about?"

"Last month, a woman murdered her husband and his mistress, then took the kids away to Alaska for a holiday with the inheritance money."   
He laughed loudly, "That's quite a plan!"  
She chuckled a little, "Yeah, I guess."

Suddenly, he stood up. "Where's your booze?"  
"Fridge, and cupboard beside it."

He walked over and started pulling out bottles of beer and spirits.  
Faith looked over at her phone and considered grabbing it but she knew that his gun was still in his pocket and by the time she got to her phone, he probably would've shot her.

"What's your name?" He asked as he came back over with the alcohol, and handed her a beer.  
"Faith. Faith Lambert. Yours?"  
"Jack."  
They clinked bottles and drank. 

Faith didn't know if he put something in her drink, or she drank too much after that, or if she was just exhausted, but next thing she knew, she was waking up on the couch and it was the next morning and she was alone.


	2. Which means...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He won't leave. Faith gets pushed to the limit then tries to get revenge by organising a clash in her timetable, but what were her true intentions?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: mention of suicide

2\. 

 

"Did you hear?"

Faith dragged herself away from her thoughts of the previous night to listen to Paul, her co-worker, and occasional lover, "Hear what?"

He took a sip of coffee, "The Joker escaped last night. He's on the run."

She tried to look surprised, but it confirmed that what had happened had been actually real, "Really?"

"Yeah!" He almost seemed impressed, "He gave the cops the slip at the station and ran for it. They've issued an alert saying he's dangerous and no one should approach him."  
"Hang on, I know that look. What're you gonna do?"  
Paul grinned, "I don't care what the police say, I'm going to find him. Like, could you imagine that interview? It'd be huge."

Faith tried not to scoff at the idea of Paul managing to get through an interview with Jack without being stabbed, but the idea of the glory and fame tempted her. After another few hours of flirting with Paul, and writing up the Joker's disappearance, Faith headed home, nervous as she opened her own door. At first, she heard nothing unusual. Cars beeped outside and sirens wailed in the distance, just normal city sounds. After some food, she collapsed on her couch and turned on the tv. The news was on, with further reports of police searching for the missing murderer, appealing to anyone with information to come forward.

"Y'know, it's so nice to feel wanted."

Faith jumped and looked up at Jack standing beside the armchair. His makeup was faded by this time, and his suit and long coat had been replaced by a more inconspicuous jeans and a black hoodie. He relaxed back on the couch, pulling Faith up beside him so her head was resting against his chest. Anyone looking would've thought they were just a normal couple, aside from Faith's look of absolute terror mixed with fury.

"So, how was your day?" He said in a fake sweet voice, stroking her hair.  
"Okay, I guess," She replied, trying to sound as dull as possible in the hope that he'd get bored and leave.   
"How did it go with Paul?"  
"He talked about you. He says he wants an interview."  
Jack laughed, "Oh, sure, I'll just walk right on up to the Gotham Times there, and have a lovely little chat about my life."

That made her smile. Then a thought came to her. An interview.

"How did you get away?" She asked, glancing up at him nonchalantly, "from the cops, I mean."  
"When they got me down from that building, I was ready for 'em. Knives and all," he locked eyes with her, "I'm sure you can work out the rest."   
"And why'd you come here? To my apartment?" She persisted.   
His voice took on a note of impatience, "I dunno, I think your window was open or somethin'."

Faith knew it wasn't, but she sure as hell wasn't going to argue with him.

Jack sat up and reached for the remote and turned off the tv, "Tell me about yourself." He let her move to the other end of the couch but it wasn't very big, so their legs were still intertwined.

"There's not much to tell," she sighed, "I'm twenty-six, my parents are both dead. I have a brother called Frank. He's gay and he lives in England. We talk on Skype every now and then-"  
"How come you've got two bedrooms?" He interrupted suddenly, "One for sleeping, the other for-"  
"I used to have a roommate," She cut him off before he could finish his crude sentence.   
"What happened to 'em?"  
"She died," She looked down, at her own hands, "Killed herself."

There was a beat of silence.

"You found her," Jack said, in barely over a whisper.   
"What?"  
"In the bathroom. On the floor. You found her laying there."

"Stop it," she bit her lip at the memory.

He leant towards her, his eyes lit up with sadistic excitement, "Maybe you weren't just roommates?"

Jack read her uncomfortable expression, "Yes, that was it. But you were ashamed. It was your secret and she was going to tell everybody. So that's why you felt almost glad when you saw the blood on the floor because you knew that your secret would die with her and you could go back to your life as normal."

Faith felt a lump in her throat and her voice choked as she demanded, "How do you know these things?"   
He smirked and stood up, "I have my ways."  
"You're sick!" She cried bitterly through her tears.  
"Sick? No, no," He bent down so his face was inches from hers, "I'm just ahead of the curve."

He made his way to the window and opened it, "See you tomorrow, sugar."

Faith cried until she fell asleep, and when she woke up the next morning she found a sympathy card lying on the coffee table beside her.   
Inside was written in scrawly handwriting, "My condolences go out to you for your loss. I'll be happy to" (something obscene crossed out) "comfort you tonight over dinner. See you at 8. Dress nice. J." 

Faith scowled and walked over to her phone.  
"Dinner tonight at 7? My place? I wanna see you xxx"  
She sent the text to Paul and went to get ready for work. 

That night, Faith put on in a red dress, short and tight, with lacy black underwear underneath. She put on some red lipstick and sprayed herself with a musky sensual perfume an ex-lover had given her for Christmas. 

After the formalities of dinner and wine, she and Paul sat on the couch in front of a movie. It was a horror, deliberately chosen so that she could pretend to be scared and get closer to him every time there was a scary moment, and there were plenty. 

Within ten minutes, she'd gotten close enough to Paul that he'd finally taken the hint and kissed her. They were laying on the couch when Faith heard the click of the window latch.

Then suddenly she was grabbed by the waist and lifted up away from Paul.   
The heat of Jack's fury was so overpowering as he slammed her into the wall, "Whadda you think you're playin' at?!"

"I was just having a guest over," She said, wondering how she could sound so calm when all she wanted to do was scream.  
Paul was practically dissolving into the couch cushions with fright. 

"How lovely!" His knife appeared in his hand, "And you dressed all nice just like I asked. Well, aren't you a good girl?"

The knife flashed across her shoulders, cutting the straps of her dress and the material until it was in shreds on the floor. 

His mouth pressed closer to her ear, "Maybe you're not."

"Faith?" whispered a quavering voice.  
"Ooh, is this Paul?" Jack spun around enthusiastically, "She's told me all about you. Well, she hasn't."  
"I-I have-"  
"You have to go? Oh, what a shame!" 

He grabbed him and dragged him to his feet.

"There we go, don't forget your pants now, you need those," he laughed charmingly.   
Paul stumbled toward the door holding his pants in one hand, looking over his shoulder in concern at Faith.  
"And if you tell another living soul what you saw here tonight, I will come to your house and-" he whispered something so quietly that Faith couldn't hear it, "Got that?"

Paul nodded, and half ran, half fell outside and down the steps.

Jack slammed the door behind him and strode back across the room to Faith.

"You're smart," He crooned, touching his hands to her bare waist, "With that little plan of yours."  
"What plan?" She asked in a fake innocent tone.

He chuckled, "You know what plan I mean. You wanted me to walk in on you and Paul... and that must've meant that you wanted me to see you... like this," He indicated her state of undress, "Which means..."  
Faith lifted up her chin so they were nose to nose, "Which means?"

Jack had just opened his mouth to reply, or maybe something else, but he stopped when a police siren sounded very close by. Then another siren. Then another.   
They were coming closer.   
Through the open window, they could hear policemen shouting orders, loading guns. Faith heard her apartment number mentioned, 6B. 

"Looks like this is gonna have to wait, sugar," Jack said, letting her go and moving towards the farthest window, lifting it open.

"It won't take them long to get up here," She heard herself warning.

"That's why I'm getting out of here now, before they come."

Faith moved over as he stepped out, on foot inside, the other on the windowsill.

She looked around outside then spoke quickly, "I'd recommend taking 3rd, then Becks, until you reach Main."

"Remember," He suddenly grabbed her jaw and pulled her face down to almost meet his, "Not a word."  
She carefully nodded and he looked her over, then quickly kissed her cheek.

Faith watched as Jack leaped to the next building, then vaulted up the fire escape to the roof and continued all the way across until he was gone from sight. She shut all the windows, then grabbed a sheer robe from her bedroom to cover herself with.

Just as she tied it, a hammering sounded at her door.  
"GPD, open up!"  
Faith opened the door slowly, "What seems to be the problem officers?"

The men were taken aback by her appearance, and several of them blushed.

"We received a report of a breaking and entering and aggravated assault in this building. We just wanted to ask you a few questions," One of them said.

"Why, of course. Come in," The man who'd spoken nodded at the others and walked in alone, "Can I get you a glass of wine?"  
"No thanks, not while I'm on duty. Detective Holt," He smiled awkwardly, holding out his hand which Faith shook, "Miss... Lambert, is that correct?" He asked.   
"Yes," Faith walked back over and sat back in the armchair with a glass of red wine in one hand, "That's me."  
"This wine... were you having a date over here tonight?"  
"Mm-hmm," She took a long drink, "Paul from my work was over for a little while. But he ran out awfully suddenly, talking about seeing someone. I don't know what he was talking about, though."

"So nobody broke into this apartment and assaulted you this evening?"  
"No," She smiled a charming smile, "Not that I can recall, at least."

This got a few laughs from the men and after this, they were soon gone.

Faith walked into her bedroom and collapsed down on her bed.  
"What the hell?" She asked herself.


	3. The Sweetest Rose

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "You always hurt the one you love,  
> The one you shouldn't hurt at all.  
> You always take the sweetest rose,  
> And crush it 'til the petals fall..."

3.

The next morning, Paul seemed to be avoiding her, until she went into the copy room to make a couple of photocopies, and he followed her in, shutting the door behind him.

"Faith."

She looked up at the sound of his voice and turned around. He walked over slowly and touched her hand. 

"Are you okay?" He asked gently, his eyes full of concern.  
She felt worryingly calm and serene, maybe even a little amused by his serious expression, which scared her even more. She'd always been far too easily influenced.

"I'm fine," Faith insisted, feeling both somehow sick and relaxed at the same time.

"That man, who was he?"  
"He's... uh,"  
"Your boyfriend?"  
She thought about saying yes, but hesitating when she thought of the consequences of this.  
Paul seemed to take her silence for assent, "Damn."  
"You didn't need to call the cops," Faith found herself irritated, "I could've handled it."  
"What happened?"

"After the cops came, he left," She said honestly. "That was the end of it."

And she thought it was until Paul didn't turn up to work the next day, or the next, or the next. She tried calling and texting but got no answer.

After a day or two, Faith was standing at the stove, stirring a pot. 

She had just reached across for the salt when she felt two cold hands on her waist.  
"What's cookin'?" Asked a voice in her ear.  
"Mac and cheese," She replied, leaning her head back to look up at him.  
"Sounds delicious," Jack brought out two glasses from the cupboard and a bottle of white wine.  
He walked casually over to the dining table, then appeared suddenly behind her again, his hand pressed down over hers.  
"Don't even think about it," He hissed in her ear.  
"I wasn't doing anythi-"  
He grabbed her by the shoulders and spun her around, "Don't lie to me!"  
He saw the knife in her hand again and grabbed her wrist, squeezing hard, pushing it away from himself. Faith's hand shook as she fought back against him.  
"Drop it," Jack snarled, his flaming eyes staring into hers.  
Eventually, he overpowered her and the knife fell onto the counter. He picked it up lightly and moved the metal between his fingers, "Bad girl." She swallowed nervously, and the blade was pressed against her throat.  
"Don't do that again," Jack said, sounding almost like a parent giving instructions to a small child. "Promise me."  
"I... I promise," Faith answered, her eyes moving from the knife to Jack's face and back again.  
He threw the knife into the sink with a loud clatter, which made her jump violently. She saw a smirk on his face as he walked back over to the wine and poured out two large glasses. Faith came over with the two dishes of macaroni and cheese, as Jack put an old jazz song on her speaker, "You Always Hurt The One You Love". When he sat down and ate opposite her, a pink rose in a vase in between them, she felt that they could've been anywhere; in any restaurant in Gotham on a date.  
"Wait, was this a date?" She thought suddenly. The same thought seemed to have occurred to Jack, but he was just smiling, his eyes down.

Jack didn't have much wine, but the bottle was soon empty. Every time Faith had looked up her glass was full again. 

"Can I see your bedroom?" He asked her while helping her up from her seat.  
"Sure, it's over there," She pointed as if he needed to be shown.

Faith stumbled into her bathroom and stared at herself in the mirror. She didn't feel sick yet, but she already knew she would in the morning. Fumbling around in her makeup bag, she pulled out her red lipstick and reapplied it to her lips. 

When she reached her bedroom, Jack pulled her to him by the waist and started a slow waltz, cheek to cheek. 

"Faith... are you scared of me?" He asked after a few moments.  
She leant her cheek down onto his shoulder, "Quite a lot, yeah."  
"Do you like me, though?"  
"I don't know," She sighed, pouting like a child, "I like everybody."

"I've done a lot of things, and some people think they're bad, and that that makes me a bad man," He leant back and looked her in the eyes again, "Do you think I'm a bad man, Faith?"

"No, you're great," She grinned blindly.

Then, she laughed and spun around quicker in the dance. Jack's hands were on her waist and they were spinning and spinning...

That was all Faith remembered when she woke up the next morning. Her body was sore and she felt queasy, as she'd predicted. After closing the bathroom door behind her, she found Jack lying on his back asleep, sprawled across the couch. Her eye moved slowly to the knife, still sitting on the kitchen counter, and an idea struck her. She could be free, free from his constant harassment and intimidation. 

Taking the knife in her two hands, Faith slowly walked over to Jack and straddled him. Taking a deep breath, she raised the knife above her head and brought it down as hard and fast as she could. Suddenly, Jack grabbed her hands at the last possible second. He tried to wrestle it from her grasp while pushing it away from himself. After a minute, the knife was thrown across the room. 

"Well, that was an interesting wake-up call," He said, sighing as if this was just a minor inconvenience.

He pushed her off him, and walked to the kitchen and Faith heard him open the refrigerator.  
"D'you want anything?" He called to her.  
She didn't say anything, just sat and stared at the blank television screen in front of her.

He came back in after a minute with a bowl of cereal, and sat down beside her.  
"You got work today?" He asked with his mouth full.

Faith slowly shook her head.

"That's great!" He swallowed, "So, we can have a whole day of fun together."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> just a note- not trying to romanticise abuse here, swear to god


	4. Somewhere

4.

After an hour, Faith's phone rang. She twitched towards it, but Jack moved his knife back towards her bare stomach. He'd dressed her in red crop top and underwear, and had started drawing various images all over her with a black marker; mostly hearts but also some skulls and crossbones, explosions, guns, knives and the like. 

He reached across and picked up her phone. 

"Hellooo?" He answered in a sing-song voice.  
Faith recognised her boss Jerry's complaints.  
"No, sorry. Ms. Lambert won't be coming in today. She's feeling a little..." Jack looked over at her and smirked, "under the weather today."

She sat perfectly still, thinking of shouting for help. Even if Jerry didn't hear, maybe someone else would. But then she remembered the sound-proofing in the building, which had been put to the test many times over the years when she'd had guests over. And the knife was very close to her skin. Knowing Jack, she would probably be bleeding out before she even reached the "me" in "help me". 

"Gotta go, byeee!"  
He tossed the phone somewhere across the room. Then, quick as a flash, he was pushing Faith down onto the cushions, her shoulders up against the arm of the couch. They came nose to nose and she stared him straight in the eyes. 

"Why?" She asked, her voice trembling just a little. "Why me?"  
He giggled, and licked his lips, "Oh, 'cause you're special."  
He started kissing the skin along her jaw and neck. Faith groaned softly and closed her eyes, feeling a lump forming in her throat and her eyes starting to prick with tears.

She didn't move so he tired of this after a while and moved back.  
"I have a confession to make," He said.  
This took her by surprise.  
"Oh, really?"  
"Well, it is Sunday and I'm feeling sentimental."  
This almost made her laugh.  
"I don't suppose you remember one night in Metropolis a few years back, in fall, outside a nightclub..."

Faith flashed back to that night. She'd stumbled out of a club, quite tipsy, when the man who'd been following her around all night reappeared. He'd tried to come onto her yet again and she'd pushed him away, but before she knew what was happening he pushed her up against the wall, kissing her and whispering disgusting things. She screamed and he hit her across the face before grabbing her purse and running away down an alley. Faith had collapsed onto the ground and sat there until a cop had come by and picked her up, taking the opportunity to flirt while she'd shivered. 

"Yeah..."  
"I was there."  
She blinked, trying to remember if she'd seen his face then.  
"And since that night, I've, uh, kept an eye on you."  
"How so?"  
"Just y'know, seeing what you were doin', or who," His eyes flicked up and he smirked. "Want to get a drink?"  
Faith looked at the clock on the wall. "It's 11am."  
"It's always five o'clock somewhere," Jack grinned widely and jumped to his feet. 

He grabbed Faith by the hand and led her downstairs, smiling at the doorman on the way to the elevators. They stood, side by side, listening to the piped music. 

"Where are we going?" She asked, trying to sound casual as if this happened regularly.  
Jack turned to her and moved closer. She stepped back away from him until her back hit the wall of the elevator. He put one hand on her shoulder and the other on her thigh, moving quickly upward, up the white pleated tennis skirt he'd put on her.  
"Somewhere fun," He hissed in her ear, his entire body pressing hers against the metal wall, the safety bar digging painfully into her lower back. 

The ding of the bell sounded and an automated voice said "Basement parking lot". Jack sprung back instantly as the doors slid open.  
"After you," He said, with another charming smile, holding out his hand in a welcoming gesture. 

They made their way over to the row of parked cars in one corner.

"Now, which one of these is yours?" He asked.  
Faith just looked at him.  
He took a pair of car keys out of an inside pocket and ran them along the back of some of the cars, leaving a grey scratch mark behind.  
"Let's see," He pressed the unlock button and a beep was heard.

Jack spun around, following the noise to a black Lamborghini in the corner. 

"Now, this is more like it!" He skipped over to the car and opened the door on the driver's side. Faith followed him without even thinking about what she was doing.  
Then, he seemed to change his mind and tossed her the keys.  
"You drive," He commanded, "It says on these pills that I'm not meant to operate heavy machinery, so..."

He took out an orange container of pills from yet another pocket and rattled them at her. Faith squinted.  
"Those are my pills!"  
"No, they're not."  
"They are! It says my name on the bottle!" She insisted, pointing.  
Jack scraped off the label and read aloud, "Miss Faith Lambert, for treatment of schizophrenia and illusions, take twice daily, morning and night," Then, he took out another package and shook them. "Hmm, nearly empty. For anxiety and PTSD."  
She looked at her shoes. "That's private."  
He raised an eyebrow at her, "Looks like I'm not the only crazy one here!"

Faith tried to ignore him and got into the car. Jack slid in the passenger side and pushed the key into the ignition. She cautiously pushed a button to start the engine and reversed the car out of the space. She felt the all too familiar press of metal against her arm and looked at him.

"Floor it," He half-growled.

She did, and the car shot forward. They sped out of the parking lot and swung into the street, causing other cars and pedestrians to scatter. A manic grin spread across Jack's face. 

"Head for the city limits. Southern direction."

Everything went smoothly until they reached one of the several bridges leading out of the city. Faith saw GPD vans and cars lined up at the upcoming roadblock. 

"What do we do?" She asked in a nervous whisper.  
If they caught her with him, she could be arrested, maybe even charged as some kind of an accessory, or accomplice. Damn, she watched too many legal dramas on tv.  
Jack leant across slightly and placed a hand on her knee. "Act natural. Play along, and maybe I'll let you go when we get out of here. Deal?"  
She changed to a slower gear. "Deal."

They pulled up to the checkpoint, and a policeman tapped on the glass on Faith's side until she rolled down the window.  
"License and registration please, ma'am," He said.  
Faith opened her mouth to speak but Jack jumped in.  
"I think somebody's forgotten it, right, sweetie?" He smiled and rolled his eyes.  
"Oh, yes I have. Silly me!" Faith laughed unconvincingly.

"Never mind. Maybe this'll do." He reached over and handed a small black card to the cop. 

As the man looked at that card, his entire demeanour changed from one of suspicion to wariness. He nodded as he passed the card back. 

"Yes, sir. Sorry to bother you, sir. Please proceed."

Jack mimed tipping his hat, "Thankin' you."

* * * * *

They pulled up to a motel by the side of a highway, somewhere far south of Metropolis. Faith couldn't even remember how long she'd been driving for as she dragged her feet on the way to check in. 

The young man behind the desk jumped when Jack slammed his hand down on the silver bell on the counter.  
"Y-yes, sir? How can I help you?" The red-haired youth stammered.  
"We would like a room, please."  
"How many nights?"  
Jack reached into an inside pocket of his coat and pulled out a pistol, pointing it discreetly at the boy, just above the counter. He spoke quietly, through gritted teeth. "As many as we want."  
The boy's eyes widened in terror and he frantically nodded, pushing a key across with one shaking hand.

As they walked out, Faith looked over her shoulder at the boy, and as he looked back helplessly she mouthed one simple phrase; "Help me".


End file.
